Disappear
by GeekAttack
Summary: Everything is not what it seems. The Ministry. The Malfoy's. Hermione and Ron's relationship. Once Hermione Granger agrees to work undercover alongside Draco Malfoy after working at a desk job for 4 years, everything begins to reveal itself. But is it too late? Draco/Hermione
1. Shadow

It was a terribly rainy night, as was expected in England, but today of all days was much worse than usual. Somewhere, a blonde-haired man wrapped his dark cloak tighter around himself as he entered a dimly lit tavern. The man was disgusted with the state of the tavern- old, grimy, and covered with an excessive use of wood. Of course, that didn't matter to him, for the risk of him being recognized there was low.

As he strode towards the bar, he felt eyes curiously observe him from afar. Not that the man minded all that much, he knew he was an attractive man. Albeit, cocky too.

"Two shots of firewhiskey." Under the shabby light you could see the man's features more clearly. His hair plastered to his face, still wet from the weather. Hollow, grey eyes that seem to haunt your own.

The soft murmuring of the tavern had become much louder since he had entered, and the sound of horrible muggle music began to play in the background. The blonde sneered, roughly grasping the drinks placed in front of him and slamming a few crumpled bills onto the counter.

"Don't take your anger out on the counter; what has it ever done to you?" a voice that belonged to the man he was planning to meet, teased. The bar stool creaked as his companion took a seat next to him.

"Potter," the blonde-haired man raised his glass to the man beside him, and forced it down is throat. Revelling in the searing fire running through him, like being shocked with electricity.

Green eyes glanced at him judgementally, "If you drink too much, Malfoy, I'm not going to be the one holding back your hair."

"I didn't come here to be scolded, wonder boy. What the bloody hell does the Ministry want? They better not be interfering with my mission. Let me remind you that you need me, and therefore things need to go _my _way," Draco threatened darkly, but calmly. He cradled his drink in his delicate hands.

Potter laughed dryly, "I promise it won't be too bad, ferret. It appears that the Ministry still doesn't trust you fully, and finds it necessary to send someone else in as well." He spoke with an undertone of bitterness. The green-eyed man then began to fiddle with his own hands, rough and worn out.

Draco's face twisted at the sound of his words. Of course. The Ministry still didn't trust him. After such a long time of fighting, people still couldn't get over the history of his family. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, isn't that right? Merlin, he even became an Auror trying to get people to look past his name.

How funny is that? That a name could hold such power. Such presence. Malfoy. Potter. Voldemort. Even without knowing who they were, you knew their character. _Why do I even try_? Draco thought.

"The Ministry wishes to send someone else with me? Just in case I really am working with them and just deceiving you. Isn't that correct?"

The messy haired man furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Draco knew that he had learned to respect Potter, and that Potter had grown to respect him. They both knew that the Ministry is the mere definition of corruption. Lies upon lies. Making the public think that it's all just spiffy now that Voldemort's gone, and the Ministry will rebuild itself to its previous glory. Draco laughed bitterly to himself at the thought. Rebuild itself? More like become so desperate to have some kind of order to give into bribes, and believe in rumours. At least the Auror Department, run by Potter, is doing some kind of good around this country. Even though all the executive orders come from upstairs.

"Yes," Potter said pressing his lips into a thin line. "They wish to send a woman. That is all I can tell you at the current moment."

Draco tutted patronizingly, "What ever happened to 'I must not tell lies'? Come on, Potter, and tell me. You know I'll just find out myself no matter what." His silvery gaze and smirk silently challenged him.

Wonder-boy sighed deeply, "They wish to send a woman to pose as your fiancée to gather information from the families of the suspected."

"And to keep an eye on me."

"Considering your history, there is no doubt that she will keep an eye on you. Even if it isn't necessary."

Draco's smirk widened, "Ah, so you know who she is?" He marvelled at Potter's uneasiness. The green-eyed man began to squirm in his seat with a clear expression of mixed feelings etched on his face.

"I have yet to ask her, but I'm sure I'll be able to wear her down enough to say yes." _Who exactly does Potter have in mind?_ Draco thought to himself. He had not been down at the office in close to a year. In fact the only time he had been there for longer than a month was during his training, so he hadn't much time to mingle. Not that he'd want to anyway. _Not that anyone would want to mingle with a Death Eater. _

Of course, he's had friends and girlfriends since then. Many of them fled to other countries after the war but kept in contact. Others were so horrified when the war was discussed amongst them, that they left too. It's not that he'd need them anyway; he had his mother and his work. That was enough for him.

Draco looked at Potter expectedly, "So?"

"So, what? I'm not going to tell you who it is. That'll take all the fun out of it," Potter said smugly. Damn Potter and his stupid games. They clinked their glasses and took another swig of their drinks, both hoping to numb their emotions tonight.

"You always did like to pick on me," he began with mock innocence. "I must be off, Potter. You know how it is. I can't bear to be seen with you any longer than I have to. I hope to find out who this woman is by the ball. Either way I'll just make my Malfoy magic and find out for myself. "

The blonde-haired man slid his empty glass across the bar, and wrapped his dark cloak around him to disappear into the rain once more. Becoming yet another faceless figure roaming around in the night.

He felt something grab his arm and spun around. "You better make sure you're alive for our next meeting."

Draco nodded slowly, smiling grimly. He opened his mouth before leaving the disgrace of a tavern, "Always the sentimental one, eh, Potter?" And with that he vanished into the night, without a trace, as if he wasn't even there. Almost like a shadow.

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><p><em>Here we go again, ladies and gents! Once again the writing wheels are rolling, and we're back in business. First of all I would like to say that none of this belongs to me, there is an additional general disclaimer on my profile. Secondly, feel free to leave a piece of criticism or perhaps a comment about my new story. I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter: we meet Hermione.<em>

_GeekAttack_


	2. Apparition

She was more than furious with him. She was absolutely livid. Now she was going to the annual Ministry Holiday Ball alone. Which was perhaps better than going with a drunken man mumbling about his troubles. But she was going to try to not think about Ron tonight.

Hermione entered the ballroom, adorned with elegant ice crystals hanging from the pearl white ceiling. Waiters dressed in white and gold circling around the room, and an overflowing table of food sat in the corner. In the center of the room was the dance floor with men and women gliding around in circles, so elegantly.

She smoothed out her black gown and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling slightly self-conscious that she was showing too much of her skin. She decided to ignore it, and hoped to find Harry and Ginny amongst the crowd.

She found it hard, however, to focus because Ron's words had begun to sink in. Of course, for the longest time it had only been a phase. By the time the anniversary of the war came around he would have one too many drinks to help numb the pain, which soon became a habit of his. More and more lately, Hermione had been having a hard time convincing herself that he was only just having a hard time dealing with the aftermaths of the war. More specifically, the death of his brother, Fred.

Hermione understood his grief, for she had lost her parents in the war too. She had gone back to erase their memories and send them off to Australia, but it had been too late. She spent countless hours thinking about everything she could have done to save them. But what good did that do? They were still dead. They didn't die to have them mope around for the rest of their lives. There was a reason for them to be alive and that was for them to get a chance to be happy.

That's what she told Ron. But all she got in return were a few more hurtful words to add to the list. She _knew_; she knew that he didn't mean them. But why did they still get to her?

At last Hermione found her seat next to Harry and Ginny's. They complemented each other nicely, she observed, the two of them sitting next to each other. It greatly reminded Hermione of the picture Harry had showed her of his parents. _This is life that Harry deserves _she thought, smiling inwardly.

"'Mione!" A bright red head of hair engulfed her in a tight hug, both women grinning widely. "We've missed you. You never come by the Burrow any more," Ginny released her, with a small frown on her face.

She mustered up a small smile to hide the small pang of pain she felt in her chest, "I know, I've missed you too. But you know how Ron doesn't like to go around there anymore." From the corners of her eye she could see Harry look down at his shoes sadly. Hermione found herself looking down at her own as well.

The redhead's face flushed, "I can't believe him. I had a feeling that he would ditch tonight, but I didn't think he'd actually do it. Just wait until Mum hears about it, she'll have his head." Her eyes diverted to Ginny's fists clenching the emerald fabric of her dress.

Harry cleared his throat softly, "Ginny, I think it would be best if we don't bring up Ron tonight, for all our sakes. We should enjoy tonight." His hands found hers, intertwining them and looked at each other with such love and passion. Hermione found herself with a feeling of emptiness, for this- this is was she and Ron could have had. This is what they could have been. But isn't this what the war did to people? Bring them together and tear them apart. _I guess I couldn't be so lucky _she thought to herself.

"If you guys don't mind," Hermione faked a grin. "I'm going to get myself a drink." Just as Hermione made her escape, the annoying voice in her head decided to chime in.

_Planning on developing an addiction too? _Hermione huffed in frustration. She could do whatever she wanted; she was going to enjoy herself for once. _Good for you. I mean, all you ever do all day is work. And when you're not working you're scolding Ron. And when you're not doing that you sulk. That's right, the brightest witch her age is sulking over a broken relationship. _

She growled inwardly. How could she not sulk over her broken relationship? This is what she wanted since Hogwarts, a relationship with Ron. Is it really so bad that she get upset that when she finally does have a relationship and it doesn't work out? Is it so bad for her to mourn the life they could have had together had Ron not started drinking?

_Yes, it is bad. Welcome to the real world, hun. Things don't always turn out as they're originally planned. All you can do it move on; that's what you did when your parents died, so why can't you do the same thing when your relationship with Ron died? _

She poured herself a hefty serving of firewhiskey, accidentally pouring some on herself in the process. She swore under her breath and began to mutter _Scourgify_, until someone had beaten her to it. The spot had vanished from her gown.

Hermione looked up to thank the person, only for her eyes to meet with the familiar grey ones she had remembered from Hogwarts. Fortunately he had not yet recognized her, which gave her time to observe how time had changed him. The white light reflecting off of the crystal chandelier gave the blond-haired man an eerie glow. _Almost of an apparition_, she thought to herself. His face had become more gaunt and sunken, his pale locks hanging loosely from his face, and yet it still seemed like every hair was in its place.

"You know, saving me a New Year's kiss would be perfectly acceptable as a thank you," he smirked, with amusement painted all over his face. He began to walk over so he could stand next to her.

"You'll find that you'll accept nothing but a nice whack in the jaw from me, Malfoy," she countered coldly, taking a step away from him. She hadn't seen him since the war. Not that she'd ever _want _to see him again. Sure, he stuck out his neck for Harry for few times but that'll never make up for what happened. She could never be like Harry: able to forgive so easily. No, she wouldn't go down without a fight. Did that make her a bad person? She often wondered if it did but she knew for certain that it made her a human.

"Granger?" The blonde's smirk immediately faded into a sneer, crossing his arms over his chest. It was almost as if he purposely tried to make himself look more powerful than she did.

"The one and only," she replied dryly, not in the mood to argue- even if it did take her mind off of Ron. He began to circle her, like a vulture circles its dead prey. Little did this vulture know, that his prey was not dead. No, it was more than alive. It was alive and ready to fight.

"My, my, my, Granger. You clean up nicely. You do seem to miss one thing though. Where's the weasel?"

The sharp sound of her glass crashing onto the floor interrupted their little banter, as Hermione stared at him darkly. _Reparo _she thought, focusing on the word, saying it in her head until the cup had gone back to its original state.

"Don't call him that," she growls.

He smirks with satisfaction written all over his face, he has everything he needs. "Taught yourself non-verbal wandless magic? Impressive. Almost as impressive as your temper. Have you no self control, Granger?" Her face grew red as a Weasley's. She knew he was only trying to get her riled up.

Hermione sighed, building up her icy exterior. Deciding not to let him get what he wants this time. "If you would excuse me from this conversation, . I would not want to cause a _scene_."

She watched as he plastered on his most charming smile, "Of course, Miss Granger. As you wish." He bowed dramatically and disappeared into the crowd. Malfoy just couldn't pass up the opportunity to see her all hot and bothered, but not in a good way. She felt relieved, however, because she assumed that she would not have another encounter with him until the next Ministry ball. Assumed being the key word, she would realize soon enough.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" A concerned voice called out to her. She blinked a few time blankly before noticing that Luna had come up to her. Luna hadn't changed much- she stood there with the everlasting expression of dreaminess on her face and wore a pale yellow gown with big, orange sunflowers cascading down the sides of it.

"Sorry, Luna. I was a bit caught up in my own thoughts there. What were you saying?"

She stroked her wispy blonde hair gently, "I was just asking whether you were enjoying yourself, but it appears that the nargles have gotten to you. I do hope that you're alright."

Hermione smiled at her friend, "I am alright, thank you." There was a pleasant silence between the two as they watched all the couples prance around the ballroom floor.

"Hermione?" Luna began airily, "Are you here alone because Ronald's started drinking again?" Hermione stares at Luna oddly, slightly taken back by the bluntness of the question. She had known Luna to be very perceptive as Harry had mentioned to her many times before, but she didn't realize how much.

Still not wanting to answer it, she replied: "Luna, you're an enigma." She smiles faintly at her, though her face scrunched up in deep thought. _Perhaps I should be back at the flat with Ron _Hermione thought. Though their romantic relationship was on the rocks, she was still his best friend through and through. He _needs _someone to help him get help.

Just as Hermione began to question whether or not she should have come tonight, a deep silky voice clears their throat. Luna's eyes lit up at the sight of her old classmate as Hermione flashed an icy look his way.

"Oh, Draco. Hermione was just telling me that's I'm an enigma. Isn't that nice?" she trailed off, gazing across the ballroom once more.

The superior air around him had seemed to go away and he managed a small genuine smile, "Quite."

Luna's dreamy gaze floats between Hermione and Malfoy as a grin begins to grow on her face, "Sometimes I don't understand why the two of you don't get along. You have so much in common. It's quite funny really."

Hermione quirks her eyebrow in disbelief. Her and Malfoy have as much in common as a Troll has with Fleur Delacour. What is there to understand? Malfoy has been harassing her for a good portion of her life; surely she can't expect them to get along after something like that.

"I actually came to say goodbye to you Luna. I have an important meeting to attend to, so I really must be going." He holds out his hand, delicate with long fingers as a piano player's.

They shake hands lightly, "I miss our discussions on Crumpled-Horn Snorkack. I never see very much of you anymore- you must come by the Quibbler's headquarters sometime so maybe we can catch some."

His eyes seem to project amusement, "I would love to." Luna beamed, then turned her attention back to the dance floor. His gaze moved to Hermione, who had been watching him since he approached them.

"Good night, Miss. Granger."

"Until the next time," she replied dryly, as she gave him a nod good bye. For the second time that night, Malfoy had managed to seamlessly disappear. As if he was a horrible magician whose only good magic trick was to make himself disappear without a trace. If anything, if left Hermione thinking about one thing: Where does Malfoy disappear _to_?

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><p><em>Hello, everyone! I hope last chapter wasn't too short. I suppose you could call it the prologue. Also, it has come to my attention that some things may not be entirely clear; if that's the case, don't hesitate to message me your questions. I love to hear from you! (That does not include hate.)<em>

_So we finally got to meet Hermione! To be completely honest, I was going to wait a week to post this chapter. But I couldn't wait. I hope that you all enjoyed this early update, and please free to favourite, follow, or review. Any pieces of criticism, or comments about spelling/grammar are appreciated._

_GeekAttack_


	3. Pretend

The clock had just struck midnight, and a new year had just begun. The guests at the ball slowly but surely emptied out one by one. Harry had almost forgotten about his meeting with Malfoy. After he kissed Ginny goodnight and told her that he had a work meeting and that if he could stay he would, he apparated to their new meeting place: a new muggle dance club.

The harsh neon lights flashing about the dark room, and all the overwhelming sweat and commotion seemed like the perfect place to blend into. It took a while to find the blonde-haired man sipping a weirdly coloured drinking in his hand.

"Hermione Granger? It's so obvious to me now. I really thought she had the potential to do better things than this," he greeted haughtily. The green-eyed man ordered the same drink as Malfoy had, curious as to what it would taste like, and ignored his colleague's rudeness.

"Hello to you too," Harry said dryly, not surprised that Malfoy ended up figuring it out himself yet again. It wasn't a secret that Malfoy got information one way or another and that his methods could be questionable. Things like that didn't-_couldn't_ bother Harry, not anymore. Of course, he'd step in if things went too far but, they did what they had to do under these circumstances.

"But it says in her files," Malfoy droned on. "That the last mission she went on didn't-" Harry narrowed his eyes, daring him to finish the sentence. He knew exactly what happened, which is what drove her to take on a desk job. He knew what he was getting into.

"That's _enough_, Malfoy."

"I'm not doubting her abilities, Potter. I got a first hand look at what she's capable of tonight. Wandless, non-verbal magic? Even I have yet to master it myself. She's far more capable than you."

Harry stared at him with disbelief, "It almost seems like you have a little obsession over her." He watched Malfoy expecting him to squirm or divert his eyes, but nothing of the sort happen. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

"Don't flatter her. She's still an unbearable know-it-all and hothead once she opens her big mouth," he adds snidely, his head high in the air. Though Malfoy said otherwise, Harry saw an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. Not of disgust, but of admiration? He shook his head inwardly; no, this was Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. He couldn't possibly have a soft spot for her.

"Alright," Harry said knowingly; he was curious to hear what Malfoy really thought of her. He could hear Malfoy sigh before taking another swig of his unnaturally coloured drink.

"What's going on with her and the weasel? She seemed jumpy when I brought him up, then she clammed up and went all ice bitch on me." Harry swore he could see Malfoy shudder through from the corners of his eye. He smirked to himself at the thought of little Malfoy being scared of the big, bad, 'Mione.

Ignoring the petty use of their childhood nicknames, Harry said with all seriousness, "That is none of your business." He hoped that Malfoy would drop the conversation for even _he_ hadn't talked to Ron in month now.

As much as he tried to talk to him, or write to him, Ron slowly began to push everyone that brought up memories of Fred away. He greatly understood Ron's pain, as did Hermione. He was wary of pushing Ron too far- Fred's death was a touchy subject that no one dared to linger on longer than they should.

Except for Hermione, which he was grateful for. Even though it saddened him that he got to see less and less of her because of it. Every time he saw her she'd put on a brilliant smile and pretend that everything was okay, but Harry saw the sad gleam in her eyes remain. He had done the same thing: put on a smile and pretend everything was fine even if everything was falling apart_. But isn't that what people _need_ to see?_ Harry wondered.

"She's changed," Malfoy observed, diverting his thoughtful gaze to the glass he softly cradled in his hands.

"So has everyone," Harry countered. "Next meeting: Grimmauld Place. But there is no guarantee that she'll take the case…." He trailed off, beginning to doubt if there was even a slim chance that she'll agree to it.

"There is no doubt that she is more than qualified for it, and being her goody-two-shoes self I'm sure she'll take it for the 'greater good'. As would all you little Gryffies," Malfoy said in complete seriousness, with a subtle teasing undertone in his voice. Harry began to button up his coat and prepare himself to push his way through the crowds.

"_If _she does agree," Harry stared down at him darkly. "You _will _treat her well, or you will hear from me. I trust you Malfoy, but I swear if anything happens to her-"

Malfoy interrupts annoyed, "Yes, yes. I will suffer through wrath of ever so mighty Harry Potter, The Boy-who-lived. Saviour of the whole of wizarding kind!" They exchanged glances to ensure they both understood, and nodded their heads.

"I'm not sure which time I'll be there," Harry said before making his way through the crowds.

"Malfoys don't wait around," Malfoy sneered.

Harry laughed at the utter resemblance between Lucius and Draco, "And Potters don't put up with whiny little babies. We have to be more careful, Malfoy. You can't afford to be affiliated with me in such public places anymore, especially in your position."

He rolled his eyes, "You don't think I know that?" The blonde-haired man subconsciously began to rub the faded blackened skin on his forearm. The image of a scared boy bleeding out on the bathroom floor ran through Harry's mind. That was the first time he had pitied Malfoy.

"I was just making sure- Ferret's don't have the best memory," Harry smirked before leaving an angry Malfoy behind. He walked out to the alley, apparating home to Ginny.

He stretched out his muscles; almost cat like, before peeling of his day clothes and crawling into bed with the woman he so tenderly loved. He sighed tiredly, as he wrapped one arm around Ginny's waist, thinking about what to say to Hermione tomorrow when he told her about the case.

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><p><em>Sorry about the short chapter. Don't worry next one will be longer, I promise. Thank you for reading. Feel free to follow, favourite, or review this story. I love to hear about what you guys think about it. xoxo<em>

_GeekAttack_


	4. Recover

Hermione woke up the next morning suffering through the consequences of spending another night on the stingy couch they had in the living room of their flat. Not that she had much sleep anyway for she stayed up thinking of some way to force Ron into getting help. If she couldn't help him, perhaps she could get him to let someone else do it instead. She packed up her stuff into her Mary Poppins bag- as she liked to call it, disappointed at the fact that she couldn't fit her antique book case in there as well.

It didn't matter too much- she was only going to threaten to leave him for a week, unless he got help. If he truly loved her, then he would grant her wish for him to receive help for his drinking so that she wouldn't go.

Placing a quick lightening charm on her luggage, she put them at the door and then decided to wake, and sober up Ron. She watched him groggily lift up his feet, one by one, to make it to the washroom. It almost seemed like he was trekking through a foot high swamp of honey. He opened up the drawer where they kept their potions and pulled out their significantly shortened supply of Hangover Potion. He slipped the mahogany mixture down his throat, like it was a routine for him, like a daily cup of tea. _Who am I kidding? _Hermione thought to herself. It's not _like_ his routine- it _was_ his routine.

"What is it, 'Mione? It's much too early for this, you know," he spoke as if it was such a chore. He looked around, still looking like he hadn't totally become aware of everything yet. "I'm starving; how come you haven't made breakfast yet?"

Hermione continued to observe her boyfriend in the morning light; it was so rare to see him awake at this time. She couldn't even remember the last time she did. The dark bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his face became more prominent. He almost looked like he had aged 15 years over night.

"It looks like you didn't take my advice again, Ronald. This is _serious. _This should be taken _seriously._ Why won't you get help like I've told you, like I _keep_ on telling you? I can't force you to get help Ronald, but I can certainly try," Hermione's voice was firm, though she was trying very hard not to let it waver. There was a large part of her that felt guilty for harping on Ron. It physically pained her to see someone who meant so much to her waste away like this.

"What are you going on about? Come on, 'Mione. Why don't you make some eggs and toast, and we'll sort this out?"

_"Oh, come on, Mione! If I don't hand this in today I'll get a 'D' in History of Magic for sure. You know Mum will kill me if she see's that on my report," Ron pleaded to her with his best puppy dogface. He leaned closer to her than usual, which made her breath shorten slightly._

_Hermione snorted, "Well, Ronald. If you had listened to me and started working on it a week before, or even the night before, you wouldn't have this problem. I'm not some bint that will respond to your every call." Though she's had a crush on Ron for a few months now, she still couldn't help but get annoyed when he tried to use her like this. _

_"Ron," Harry chimes in. "It doesn't look like you'll be able to wear her down today. It's one thing to ask her to review your paper, but to help write it? Now you're just _asking_ for a scolding!" Hermione could hear Harry snickering on the side and she threw him a stern look his way. But she couldn't hold it for very long, before she knew it she was grinning at her best friends in the entire world. She could never stay mad at them. _

It's been six years since that conversation, and things have changed. She _would_ not be a push over anymore. She was Hermione Granger, brightest witch her age. Not someone who would to be easily taken advantage of.

"No, Ronald. I'm not going to 'sort things out' because every time we do that we're back where we started again. You make empty promises and I let you," Hermione's calm exterior began to slowly wear down. She could feel the little fire in her begin to rise. Like she was a train and something was feeding her coal, making her excrete steam.

He didn't seem fazed by her outburst, "'Mione you're too worked up by this. Calm down and we'll talk about this." The sound of his words set off the steam whistle in Hermione's head. Her face flushed red, clenching her teeth in frustration. Why must he be so stubborn?

"I've had _enough_ of the talking. All we ever do is talk. Then we have an argument and I go to bed angry every night. Why kind of relationship is that? I can't stay here anymore, Ron, unless you decide to get some help," Hermione threatened heatedly. It was Ron's turn for his face to heat up like a tomato. Hermione saw his eyes flash with red, just as she saw many times when he lost his temper.

"You _can't_ leave because I don't have a problem. So how can I get help for a problem that I don't even have?" Ron burst before murmuring under his breath, trying to calm himself down. "Everything is fine, 'Mione. It's only a phase. You know that's all it is," he continued in a soft, tender voice, almost sounding like the old Ron.

Hermione held a pained expression as she made her way to the door, bags in hand. There he goes again. Rambling on and on about how it's just a phase. That he'll be better soon. He only needs time. She huffs frustratedly; all she ever gave him was time. It's almost seemed like she gave him too much time.

Hermione too, decided to calm herself down, "Look Ron, I love you. As a friend, as a lover. I will always be there for you. But can't you see? Can't you see all the people around you that you're hurting? You haven't seen any of your family in a year, Ron." She began to walk towards him, reaching out to him. Only to be roughly pushed away. Like she was just a random person on the street.

If there was any glimpse of the old Ron then it was already gone, "Stop-stop it. You're staying. It's you who doesn't understand the pain I have to go through. You have your way of coping, and I have mine. You're-you're just like _them_!" He began to advance towards Hermione, fists clenched and breathing heavily. Never in her life had she been so scared of Ron. Right then and there she almost feared for her life.

"Leave." Hermione was backed out the door as it slammed in her face. She could feel hot tears begin to roll down her face and brim her eyes.

She placed a hand on the door of the flat she once shared with the man she loves. Or perhaps now, the man she loved. She wanted to mourn the memories they had, and the memories they could've had. She wanted to mourn the time they lost with Harry, Ginny, and everyone else at the Burrow. But it was hardly the time for mourning for she had work to do.

She apparated to the Leaky Cauldron to book a room and then made her way to work.

_"Ministry of Magic."_

She entered the dark and busy hall, wiping off the remaining soot on her crisp white blouse and smoothed out her plain black skirt. Still bothered by the row she had with Ron, she told herself repeatedly that it was unprofessional to bring personal matters to work. She repressed the memory of it for now; she had more than enough to worry about. She entered her office in the Aurors-in-Training Department and happily greeted by her secretary.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," she smiled warmly at Hermione, surrounded by stacks of papers and memos floating above her head.

"And to you, Miss Reed. Who do I have this morning?" Hermione slipped back into her icy persona to cover up for the fact that on the inside she was an absolute mess.

Miss Reed looked slightly taken back by her tone, but didn't think too much of it. Skimming through her notepad, she replied, " requests that you meet him in the conference room as soon as possible. Then you only have 6 interviews to conduct for the rest of the day."

_Harry wishes to meet with me?_ Hermione wondered why he would need to. Though he was the head of the Auror Department now, most information was passed through the people upstairs via memos. She nodded confusedly, picking up her files and slightly rushing to the conference room. She was excited yet hesitant to see her best friend again.

She entered the conference room, one of most depressing rooms in Hermione's opinion. Rarely was it ever full; it had a long table with many empty chairs surrounding it but one, which Harry was seated in. Natural light poured in from the windows, but it was always such a grey and gloomy kind of light. Like the kind you'd see before a storm. And boy, did Hermione have a feeling that there was one brewing today.

"Hello, Hermione," The green-eyed man greeted her with grin, though his eyes told her otherwise. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Good morning, Harry. What's this about? I must say I'm slightly concerned," she laughed nervously, beginning to fiddle with the hem of her skirt.

"Actually, the reason I asked you here isn't about work. Well, not necessarily," Harry said. Hermione quirked an eyebrow; it's not about work but it kind of is? In what context would that ever make sense?

"Well? Spit it out, Harry. You of all people know I'm a busy woman," Hermione teased and tried to add a convincing laugh, but failing. She watched Harry squirm, why was he so uncomfortable? When has Harry ever been afraid to tell her something?

He slid a pale brown file across the table and immediately she understood, "Harry…" she began, eyeing the dreadful thing warily.

He ruffles his dark hair nervously, "I know you have been slightly hesitant to get back out on the field. But I need you." _I need you._ My, hasn't it been a long time since the last time she heard that? She cringed inwardly.

She was so embarrassed of that day. Who has heard of one of the best Auror recruits people have seen in ages, perform so terribly in the field? It's funny how things stay with you. And how those things end up holding you back.

_There was so much going on that night. There were spells and curses thrown around, bodies flying to the ground, people screaming. The mission hadn't been exactly going according to plan. And there she was duelling Rockwood in the middle of it. _

Stupefy!_ Hermione thought as a white light flew out of her wand, stunning her opponent. Hearing an ear-piercing scream, she began to run towards it. Only to find a small, little muggle girl whimpering, crying out for her mother who was lying cold on the ground next to her. A dark figure was looming over her as Hermione was making her way towards to girl. _

_"Crucio." The figure held out its wand, laughing, snickering at the sound of the child's screams. Hermione, who had come too late, stood there frozen. She watched as the little girl's body withered like mad, just as she had in the Manor not long ago. For some reason she found that she couldn't move. She couldn't think. She was trapped inside of herself. She fell to her knees, curling up in a ball, forced to hear the little girl's cries that had become blurred with her own. _

_She too, had begun to shake with the searing image of a woman with dark piercing eyes and wiry locks in her mind. She cackled, "You're lying, you filthy mudblood, and I know it! What else did you take? What else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" Over and over. Round and round. It replayed and played. You filthy mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Answer me. Answer me. Answer me! CRUCIO!_

_Behind her she could hear a voice shout, "Expelliarmus!" and a large thud. The girl's screaming had stopped, but Hermione's had not. _

_"Hermione, Hermione! Get up! We need you-_ I need you_!"_

_Her vision began to blur as tears brimmed her eyes, flooding them. Why couldn't she have done anything? Why couldn't she stop it? She couldn't save the girl. _

_She couldn't even save herself._

"Hermione, I need you to go undercover," Harry continues, slicing through her thoughts. "You would have another Auror with you who is already in their rankings, of course. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to you."

She cleared her throat, "Why?" she asked softly. She could help but wonder why they didn't put anyone else on the case. Perhaps someone who didn't have a break down on their first mission? She stared at him curiously, watching his green eyes plead for her to take the case.

"I know you hate your desk job. And… I know you're having a hard time with Ron." Hermione could feel the air rapidly exit her chest, her pulse increasing by the minute.

She cocked her eyebrow in disbelief, biting her tongue to prevent her eyes from watering, "So you're giving me the case out of pity?"

"Merlin, no!" Harry protested, getting up from his seat looking flustered. "No never, I want you on it because I know what you're capable of and your skills match the case's needs." He ran a hand through his messy hair, "And someone needs to give you the opportunity to do some good around here!" The laughed together, almost like they used to.

"To tell you the truth, Harry," Hermione began with all seriousness. "I'm not so sure. You remember what I was like. That can't happen again. I'll just compromise the mission." She blinked rapidly, being careful to not make eye contact.

"I won't let it," He replied firmly, with as much confidence he could muster.

She sighed dejectedly, "Alright, I'll consider it. But only because you were very close to getting on your knees and begging for it." She flashed him a small smile before asking, "How long will this mission take?" _What if Ron gets help sooner than I thought and he needs my support?_ Hermione thought worriedly. Then she thought about all the other people who cared about him. Harry, Ginny, George, Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Bill and Fleur, and maybe even Percy for Merlin's sake. He doesn't need her.

"A couple months to a year? I can't exactly brief you on it until you've agreed to the case." Hermione saw Harry smirk triumphantly. No wonder the Sorting Hat was going to place him in Slytherin- he knew her weakness- curiosity, and used it against her.

Hermione thought hard about this. _Ron should be fine on his own, won't he? And I never did like my job all that much; it never felt like I was making much of a difference. On top of that I'll be doing some actual good, just like Harry said. But…there are so many things that could go wrong. I haven't been in the field in 3 years and I've only been on one mission. And, well, we all know how well that turned out. Though, Harry said that he wouldn't let that happen. I trust Harry with my life. I do miss the thrill of a mission. It reminds me of the adventures Harry, Ron, and I used to have. _

"Fine," Hermione groaned. "You've got me. It'll be a rough start but I want to. Now tell me everything." What she realized then, was that she didn't find herself panicking about the mission all that much. Instead, it had been one of the few decisions so far that she felt good about.

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><p>Hey readers! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I love to hear from you, so feel free to leave a review. xoxox<p>

GeekAttack


	5. Hypocrisy

Hermione flipped through the file for the second time. The file had many holes in its information but it was enough to suspect something and investigate further. After the war, the market for dark goods had significantly plummeted- for obvious reasons. However, due to the "new" methods of authority, or perhaps the lack of authority, it's slowly beginning to rise up from the ashes, so to speak. For more than a year now, ex-Death Eaters and pure-blood enthusiasts, whom are not scared off by the war, run a sort of black market. In which they auction and trade illegal spells, potions, books, jewellery, you name it.

Of course there is little physical proof of the trafficking, and it won't be surprising to Hermione that certain parts of the Ministry is also involved in this charade. Because of this, they've gotten enough time to develop their services and protection, making it much more difficult to shut down by randomly raiding the place. Thus, calling for an infiltration of their business and taking them down from the inside out.

"I would like to tell you more but," Harry lowered his voice. "They have eyes everywhere." She nodded, understanding what he was really saying, and took hold of his arm as they apparated to a new location. A location that Hermione immediately recognized.

Hermione was surprised at how 12 Grimmauld Place still managed to look as dusty and stingy as it had always been. With Harry and Ginny moved into Godric's Hollow and Voldemort defeated, there seemed no use for it. At least, until now.

They made their way into the kitchen. Once filled with the heavenly smells of Molly's cooking and the sound of Tonks and Moody bickering, it just seemed so barren. No life to be seen. The grey light seeped through the holes in the curtains as it shined enough light to reveal a figure standing with its back turned to Harry and Hermione.

Without so much of a blink of an eye, Hermione held out her wand, "Show yourself." Harry tried to hold her back, but she just shrugged his arm off. He watched her closely as her eyes grow wide with surprise and then suddenly with anger once the identity of the figure is revealed.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" she growled, not letting down her guard. She was taken back at how calm he was, not intimidated by the wand she was so obviously holding in his face.

Malfoy looked at Harry, "She really hasn't changed one bit. She'll do nicely, Potter." He stood there amused at her outburst, with a smirk on his pompous face.

Harry held a pained expression on his face, "If you'd put your wand down and let me explain, 'Mione?" She narrowed her eyes and slipped her wand back into its holster. She huffed, blowing the hair out of her face, and refused to sit down when Harry motioned her to. She felt Malfoy's icy stare bead down on her, like a dagger slowly seeping through the skin.

"Malfoy, if you would just let me explain and refrain from opening your big mouth?" Harry began, shooting Malfoy a pleading look. He rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement, seeming as if they almost- respected each other. Hermione took at double take; she knew they were sworn enemies, and the last time she saw them together they practically had their wands at each other's throats.

"The Ministry isn't as it seems. It hasn't gotten better since the war, if anything it's gotten worse. It isn't a democracy, 'Mione. It's deception. As I'm sure you've already picked up on, there are figures within the Ministry is involved with the trafficking of dark objects and Merlin know how many other things. We can trust the Minister, but he can be…influenced. Which is why I've wiped some of the information of this operation from his mind to keep him from sharing it."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, shocked that of all people, Harry would do such a thing. Of course, she understood that it was necessary. But this was Harry Potter, the very definition of good. She wasn't very surprised when he told her of all the corruption going on in the Ministry. It was there before the war; there is no doubt that it would be there after. People have become desperate to rebuild their lives. Not matter what the cost.

"As far as we know, Ministry officials involved with trafficking aren't aware of this mission or the information coming out of it. But I won't be surprised if they have eyes and ears all around the Ministry."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, "I still don't know where I fit into the equation?"

Harry laughed bitterly, "The Minister doesn't entirely trust the Auror we currently have and we're running out of time. There's a large possibility that this may grow to be much more than just trafficking, which is why we need more information coming in." Harry had anger in the voice, something she hadn't heard in a while. Hermione understood his anger. After all the fighting they went through to stop this and then to know it really hasn't stopped, it's heart clenching.

"The Minister would like another Auror- you, to go in and pose as a fiancée of a pure-blood enthusiast. Gathering information from the aristocratic society while acting as an old family friend that fled to France before the war started." Harry held a pained expression. He was keeping something from her, she could tell. What could be worse than having to tell someone that our dear old Ministry is a piece of shit and there's possibility that there could be another dark cult forming that could murder thousands?

A voice cleared its throat; Hermione had totally forgotten about Malfoy's presence. Malfoy looked smug, too smug for Hermione. "What Potter has failed to mention is that _I_ am the Auror you will be engaged to for the next few months."

_What?_ Hermione was slightly shocked by his bluntness, but she was much more furious than shocked. Malfoy? She managed to keep her composure, but inwardly she was screaming. She was forced to spend the next few months with a man she once despised? _Once despised? Meaning, past tense? _Hermione growled, the voice was back again. _Don't be childish, Hermione. Just think about the people you're protecting. It's a small price to pay…._ She rolled her eyes and decided that she was to have a stern talk with Harry when this was over.

"I know you don't particularly like this but-"

Hermione interrupted Harry, "Nonsense." She plastered on her cool smile, "I'm sure Mr. Malfoy and I will be civil during the course of the mission, isn't that right?"

The fire in her intensified, roaring loudly. She would have loved to hurt Malfoy, punch him in the face to remind him of third year. But that would have meant he won the satisfaction of watching her explode over the fact that she was stuck with him. And she couldn't have that, now could she?

She narrowed her eyes, as she watched Malfoy match her icy stare. He too, plastered on a cold smile, "Of course, Miss Granger."

The green-eye man looked between the two oddly. Hermione guessed he must have been confused with both of their behaviours- anyone who knew both of them would.

"Now, you'll have to learn proper etiquette and other mannerisms before being introduced into their society. Malfoy has the files, so you'll be sure to be briefed yourself on those." There hung an awkward silence between the three of them. Hermione and Malfoy throwing piercing glares at each other, and Harry stuck in the middle, shifting uneasily.

Harry broke the silence, abruptly standing up from his seat, "Well, I believe Hermione and I must head back to the office, people might wonder where we've been. I presume you need to get going too, Malfoy?"

"Yes," Malfoy responded dryly, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Miss Granger: we will meet here tomorrow morning at 5 o'clock sharp. Do not be late." He sneered once more before apparating away without so much of a 'pop'. Hermione was fascinated, yet again, by how he managed disappear so effortlessly. Not even the dust by his feet was disturbed by his presence.

She turned her attention back to Harry, "Seriously, Harry? Really? Since when were you so chummy with Malfoy?" She had to admit that she felt slightly betrayed: Harry and their childhood enemy getting along? Perhaps it was childish, but it didn't mean it bugged her less.

Harry sighed, he looked more tired than usual. Like a fire slowly burning away until it glowed so dim that it almost burnt out. "This case is important to me. We can't afford to be reckless. So who else should I put on it than my two best operatives? And Malfoy isn't the evil snake you make him out to be. I respect him as he respects me. You should learn to do the same." She looked at him right in the eyes; she had to make sure that he was telling the truth. It just didn't sound like the Harry she knew. _Perhaps the Harry you knew just grew up?_

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I trust you with my life, Harry. But that won't stop me from going with my gut. For you, I'll be civil but I won't respect him until he respects me."

"Thank you," he said sounding relieved, pulling me into a short hug. There was something so familiar and comforting by being in Harry's arms, perhaps it reminded her of the way her father would hold her. What she wouldn't give to bring her parents back just to experience that again.

"Please take care of Ron. I'm not ready to tell you everything yet, but promise me you will. If he looks for me, tell him that I'm staying with my parents. He was never sober enough for me to tell him that they died." Hermione tried hard not to sound bitter, but she had every right to be.

"I will. Thank you for doing this. Keep safe, Hermione. I should be able to visit you so keep the DA coins handy, but if I don't…" His lively eyes grew sad, as if he was remembering the people who used to sit around this table but could no longer.

She squeezed his hand, "Don't worry. And say hi to Ginny for me- I have to head back to the office and sort everything out." Hermione held out her wand and apparated away, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

She re-entered the Ministry, but now she saw it in a different light. She now felt so ignorant before, but there was a part of her that wished that she stayed that way. That she would be happier that way. Happy and Ignorant.

"A note came for you; I placed it on your desk," Miss Reed said, before watching her boss clam up into her office yet again.

On her beautifully carved, mahogany desk laid a pristine piece of parchment that read:

_They have eyes everywhere. Do not forget that._

_-DM_

Hermione tore the note in two, throwing it into the fire. She slumped in her chair and it was at that moment when she realized that things were never going to be normal again, from this point forward. Picking up her quill, she began her work for the day like usual. Though she couldn't shake the off putting feeling she got when the image of cold grey eyes popped up in her head.

* * *

><p>"<em>Where<em> is she?"

Draco paced the kitchen floor, as he waited for his little know-it-all. It was only 5:02 and he was already annoyed with her. He specifically told her 5 sharp. What was so hard to understand about that?

He couldn't lie to himself; it didn't help that the place itself made him a bit on edge. Though Potter had said this place was Unplottable, he always had the habit of never lingering around a place more than once. Call it paranoia, but his new _friends_ haven't found out about these meetings. Which meant that he was still alive, and that Potter and him would be safe for now.

_Thud. _Granger walked out of the fireplace, with her bags in hand. 5:03.

"You're late," he said grumpily, twirling his wand between his fingers. He eyed her up and down, disgusted; she wore a Shakespeare t-shirt with ratty old jeans and a pair of high-tops. Of course, she had to wear the most muggle clothes she owns in spite of him. It was so different from his style; unlike her he actually had some finesse and an appreciation for high-end clothing.

She glanced at her watch, "By only three minutes. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Ignoring her little cheap shot at him, he observed her standing there in her normal muggle clothes. It made Draco notice how _much_ she had changed since Hogwarts.

Of course, he had seen her at the ball and- Draco gagged inwardly- hit on her, not knowing who she was. He already knew that she had grown taller- she was only about a few inches below him. Her hair had gotten significantly less bushy, but nowhere near straight or wavy. She had filled out in certain areas, as many women do. Granger was...decent.

But he hadn't noticed how worn out she looked, it was written all over her face. It was in her posture too, even in her voice. It was so much different from the upbeat powerhouse he had met at Hogwarts, and he even got a glimpse of it at the ball. _What happened to the old Hermione Granger?_ Draco wondered to himself.

"Looks like someone raided a homeless person's closet this morning," he retorted, hoping to get her rattled. Instead of the angry outburst he had expected, she smirked.

"I only dress like this for you," she said, her voice dripping with sickly sweet syrup. Her honey brown eyes that bore into his almost seemed like their trying to melt the ice between them. Draco built up his defenses; he was convinced that she was only trying to get to him, which she was. He roughly grabbed her wrist, apparating them away to Malfoy Manor.

Malfoy Manor, the one place where he felt completely safe. Though it harboured horrific memories of his father, and of the acts of him and his compatriots performed while staying here, he knew without a doubt no one could get into here without his permission. He made sure of that. Malfoy Manor wasn't his childhood home- it was his fortress.

He felt her yank her wrist away from him, and cradle it in her arms. "Don't touch me like that," she seethed. She looked shaken up, as if his touch triggered something. What that something was, Draco didn't know.

He huffed and decided to push her buttons, hoping to be lucky enough to find the old Granger inside of there, "In case you haven't noticed, no place but here is completely safe. We had to leave there before being compromised. A simple thank you would suffice." He sent her the old Malfoy sneer, she should be grateful for his actions. She should obey and listen to him- he _was _housing her in his home. _Not bloody likely! _He imagined she would say.

"A thank you? For what? Saving us from being 'compromised'? Grimmauld Place is one of the safest places I know. You're insane, Malfoy. Mad!"

He glared at her, "I've had enough of your protesting, Granger. You're too prejudiced to understand my reasoning." That seemed to do the trick- he already saw the fury behind her eyes, the outburst of passion she had repressed.

"Oh _I'm _prejudice?" She snorted. "Says the person who used to call me a mudblo-"

"_Don't."_

Something went off in Draco's head, like a switch or an emergency button. Like some kind of siren blaring like mad in his head. He wasn't sure whether it was the memories associated with the word or whether the sentence reminded him of the fact that no matter what he did, he'll still be looked at as a Death Eater.

"Why?" she asked, almost like she was spitting out venom. "Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. That's what I am it. Isn't it? Isn't it," she challenged him further, taunting him. Did she realize how much she sounded like his deranged aunt just then? If she had, she wouldn't have dared to utter those words.

Draco could not hold his composure any longer; how could she? How could she make such a judgement of his character without knowing anything about him? _Let's not forget you've done the same thing. _That's different, he thought to himself. He no longer believed in blood prejudices. He's changed, unlike her. He wasn't even sure he believed in it in the first place. How curious is it, that ones parents have such a strong way of influencing their child? Like father, like son, wasn't it?

"That's _enough_, Granger," he said in his most Snape-like voice. As much as he would love to slap some sense into her-just as she would like to do the same to him- but she wished that he dared not touch her. And Draco would never hear the end of it from Potter if he had. He just needed to escape- he could not handle their little banter any longer. At first it was amusing, but somehow it always goes too far.

"Granger: you say that you are not prejudice. But if you just listen to yourself, you may want to reconsider your answer."

_That should give her something to think about, _Draco thought to himself before going back to his study to catch up with his _business partners. _He locked himself in, hoping that he wouldn't have the pleasure of meeting with Granger again tonight.

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><p>Hi there readers! I don't think this is one of my best chapters, but I'm glad to get it over with. I found it hard to capture both Draco's and Hermione's divided feelings, but also show how they carry themselves differently in front of people and each other. I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite it being a bit all over the place. Feel free to follow, favourite, or review! Thank you to everyone who review my past chapters, I appreciate it!<p>

GeekAttack

**Also: Please take the poll posted on my profile regarding the plot of this story! It's very important that I know very soon. Thanks!**


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